


Unimpressed

by LHasty



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 08:13:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18362084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LHasty/pseuds/LHasty
Summary: A What-If Scenario.





	Unimpressed

If someone had told him that he was going to end his day by being tossed into a volcano, Albert Wesker would’ve laughed in their face. That was how confident he’d been about all of this. It had been running so smoothly, so effortlessly that the blond megalomaniac was certain that nothing could go wrong. Sure, the appearance of Chris Redfield had been unpleasant - but totally expected. Wesker had had no doubt that it was only a matter of time before his ex-partner showed up, to try to right wrongs and ward off evil. That’s just what the man did, and while Wesker did hate him, he also understood that changing one’s nature wasn’t easy. It was in Chris’ nature to be a meddlesome shit.   
C'est la vie, as the French said.

He had not, however, expected Chris to come with assistance. Wesker had expected the man to be either an idiot or stubborn. The former meant that Chris would’ve come by himself, alone, to try to wipe out this ordeal by his lonesome. That was the heroic thing to do, and there was a picture of Chris Redfield next to ‘heroic’ in Wesker’s mental dictionary. –Of course, there was a picture of Chris in several entries in Wesker’s mental dictionary, but that was not the point. It would’ve been perfectly in character for Chris to have attempted the mission alone. The fact that he did not had irked Wesker, to a small degree.

The latter, however - stubborn - would’ve meant that Chris was doing this alone simply because he felt obligated to do so, seeing as Jill - Chris’ previous partner - was dead as far as Chris knew. Not that that was the case - as Chris found out later - but it certainly wasn’t the point at the time. Chris was an idiot, Wesker knew this, Chris showed up anyway. All of these things were expected.

Sheva Alomar, however, had not been expected. Of course, Wesker expected the African branch of the BSAA to send someone to take care of Tricel - not him, no. Wesker had done everything in his power to keep his name out of things, lining Excella up to be his metaphorical scapegoat - but a woman was not what he’d been expecting, by any stretch of the imagination. It helped a great deal that said woman was deliciously beautiful. 

Semantics, of course. Wesker’s past with members of the fairer sex had not been something to write home about. Even the ones that did show promise, such as Excella Gionne, for example, always fell short. Yes, the woman was beautiful and intelligent, but it was the wrong kind of intelligence. It was the intelligence that helped her climb a corporate ladder and that was all well and good…but the woman couldn’t find her way out of a test tube with a ball peen hammer. Understandably, that was the sort of woman that Wesker had absolutely no use for. He had enough scientific mind for both of them, yes, but she had also lacked a healthy dose of common sense where some matters were concerned.

Let’s not even get into how pushy she was. In the end, she served her purpose. She’d kept Chris and Sheva busy for quite a while, and that’s all Wesker had needed then. In the end, of course, it didn’t matter much at all. In the end, he’d been shot into a volcano - an unpleasant situation, all in all. One he had no plan on repeating, either. It would’ve killed a lesser man, of course. 

As he had drug his charred, mostly skeletal mass out from over the lip of the volcano, however, held together only by the barest skeins of flesh and Uroboros virus, tenacious as it was, Wesker reminded himself - and not for the first nor last time of his life - that he was not a lesser man. He hadn’t been for a very, very long time, mind you - and he had no intentions of ever being a lesser man. So what if he was doomed to a life of sunglasses and daily shots, to make sure the virii in him didn’t rage out of control?

So what if he couldn’t have children probably, and would never again truly grasp the concepts of love or affection? It wasn’t as if those things had ever been part of his life even when he had been a normal human being! Love? Hah. Love was for the weak. His parents had not loved him. They had barely realized he’d existed, much less that he was actually a human being. No, all he needed was science. That, at the very least, had kept him alive - would continue to keep him alive, too. 

Obviously so.


End file.
